


The Meaning of Violet

by Thel Ihveen (FancyMando)



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Gen, I'm sorry if you expected canon characters there are absolutely none, It's all OCs, Mandalorian, Mando'a, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-22 20:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12489792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyMando/pseuds/Thel%20Ihveen
Summary: Thel Falkrowe has a bad job in one of the many bad parts of Coruscant, until a complete stranger offers her a new one - one that could quite possibly get her killed. However, getting picked up by a band of rowdy Mandalorian warriors isn't an opportunity she's about to waste, and soon she finds herself getting a little too attached to her work. With a ship full of family she's never had, and a sky full of systems she's never visited, Thel may just have to choose between going back to her old life, or leaving everything she knows about herself behind. She has a long way to go before she proves herself worthy of joining themando'ade.





	1. Hire a Local

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as backstory for the custom mando character I portray as part of the Mercs, but I wanted to organize my writing outside of the dedicated forum. You can find me (and earlier, unedited parts of this story) under Thel Ihveen on the Mandalorian Mercs Costume Club site. This story takes place somewhere in the Expanded Universe timeline, after the events of Return of the Jedi. Let me know if anything could be improved, or if I got any Mando'a wrong...

The bartender was a sharp-faced human woman, with her bleached hair piled on top of her head in a quickly-unraveling bun. “You alone tonight, hon?” she asked, pouring a glass of ice water.

“Yeah,” Teryn said, clearing his throat. “I am.”

“All that armor, you look like you’re looking for trouble.” She set the glass down for him, and he scowled at it thoughtfully.

“I’m not,” he muttered, glancing at her nervously. Her voice was rough and she had a hand on one hip, eyebrows raised, as if waiting impatiently for him to reveal some great nugget of wisdom.

After he didn’t say anything, she nodded, sniffing, satisfied. “Good,” the woman grunted, and took an order from another patron.

The small Coruscanti club – named, worryingly, The Smuggler’s Hold – felt like it was having a great time without him. The music throbbed, raining down on the people below while others chatted on the wide balcony off the upper level. To his right, the brightly-lit dancefloor teemed with life, and beings of indeterminate species bounced in the half-dark. The purple light made his green armor look gray, almost ghostly.

Sure, Teryn was there, but he wasn’t entirely present.

He stared into the visor of his helmet, which rested on the counter in front of him. The man next to him was looking him up and down, and Teryn bitterly thought to himself that he should have come out of armor, perhaps, so as to not attract attention. He was, after all, too late; trouble had already found him. Or, more accurately, Ram’ser had found some trouble _for_ him, as the information-man was so skilled at doing.

_Four more days on this rock,_ he thought, sipping at his water. He would probably wheedle some tihaar out of his grandmother’s cabinet later that night, if only to calm his nerves, but at the moment he felt like being nervous.

He was going to be a father.

That should be great news for any _mando’ad_ , and he was delighted, but it was also a terrifying prospect. As traditional as he was, his wife’s assertion that their child would be running around in armor as soon as they were big enough to carry it all set him on edge.

Maybe it was that his wife hadn’t been born a _mando’ad_ like he had – was she taking things too seriously? Was he not taking things seriously enough?

Condensation slid down his glass, wetting his gloves.

He knew he should be working – that’s why he was here, anyway. His grandmother had tasked him with picking someone up. Anyone. A local guide they could slip a few cred chits to after their deal was done. Eedee didn’t know much about the planet, and she was a paranoid old _chakaar_. Somehow it had skipped a generation – though his mother rolled her eyes, the Captain’s words were law.

Teryn knew that if his brother were here, the job would be done; Dack would sidle in, kama swinging, bucket slung under one arm, and talk sweet to the first Coruscanti girl who would give him the time of day. Not exactly a competent guide, but someone who could point them towards good hideouts and the finer passages of the criminal underworld far better than any droid or database.

Eedee had sent Teryn because, like her, he was very thorough in his assessment of character. Their information man had little to give them beyond a drop point and the time of day, and half the clan had already staked out the public square and found little remarkable about it. A fresh pair of local eyes wasn’t required, but Eedee wanted to be safe. And she had the creds to hire someone.

With another wordless, contented glance at the bartender, Teryn finished his water. A club like this was probably a bad place for him to look, but he didn’t really plan on finding anyone. He was too stressed. He’d return to his ship later in the evening, complain about finding no one willing to do the job, and see if he could bum a drink off his grandmother. He knew she’d see right through him, but she would probably pity him enough to sit down and ask to hear about what was really on his mind.

_Kaul_ , he thought, his eyes watching the movement of a group of intoxicated young locals as they bickered in a round booth by the side of the dancefloor. He was thinking of his wife. He’d known about the kid for a whole three days, and it was just now sinking in.

One of the girls was yelling, and had stood up to dump her drink over a guy’s head. Offended, the boy stood, prompting three other young men to join him. Broken glass tinkled on the dancefloor, half-drowned by all the other noise.

One day, his kid would grow up, and do something _dikut’la_ like start a bar fight. He just knew.

From behind the bar, the bartender shouted something discouraging, and was ignored. A boy in a bright yellow vest was suddenly grappling with a taller guy whose hair had been spiked up at odd angles, and the other people around them were standing back and letting it happen, even taking out holorecorders to capture the action. Teryn wondered if he should step in and give the staff a hand – break it up, perhaps – when someone came tearing onto the side of the dancefloor, barking orders.

“You two! Stop that!”

Teryn slipped off his barstool, watching intently. The person was smaller than the two young men, and half their width, and judging by their voice was probably female.

“Hey!” As she approached, the crowd parted around her, some people oohing and making excited noises; they knew things were about to get interesting. The woman was pulling something from her belt and it wasn’t a blaster. The music around them had stopped, and the lights flickered and flashed in silence. People had paused to watch, keeping their distance, yelling.

“Fight! Fight!”

“Kick his teeth in!”

“Watch out!”

The woman drew her weapon – for a moment Teryn’s brain registered it as a lightsaber on the end of a very long cord, but it didn’t ignite. Instead, one of the guys who wasn’t fighting yet punched her in the stomach as she passed. She staggered sideways, dropping the metal hilt.

“Hey!” This time, it was the Mandalorian yelling. He grabbed his helmet from the bar and donned it, charging into the fray.

One of the boys threw his hands up, backing away, but the other three were either too drunk or too stupid to hold back. Now that Teryn was closer, he noticed that one of them was armed with a set of heavy brass knuckles. The guy swung at Teryn, who merely batted him aside.

Shouts became muffled by the audio filters in his helmet, and more people started pouring down the stairs. Most were partiers who wanted out – the sight of a fully-armed warrior probably had them re-thinking their evening’s plans. A couple rougher-looking guests, however, came to the aid of the guys on the ground.

The metal of the brass knuckles clanged off Teryn’s helmet, and then there were limbs flying and he was flipping one of the small men over one of his knees, slamming him onto his back.

_The girl. Where’s the girl?_ He paused for a moment to look for her, and his helmet sensor picked up a person coming at him from behind. He spun to see the young woman backing towards him, her weapon on hand.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

“What?”

“Back off!” She yelled, with surprising force.

“I’m kriffing _saving_ you, _di’kut_!” There were more than seven people surrounding them, looking to fight – there was no way she was going to hold them off on her own, even if some were fighting amongst themselves.

She didn’t sound very grateful. “I can handle this!” She called over her shoulder, and activated the device in her hand.

It wasn’t a lightsaber. As she flicked the handle, the long cord protruding from the grip flickered to life with orange light.

A pair of the fighters must have seen the weapon before, because one of them started cursing and dragging her buddy off by the shirt.

Teryn simply turned around and kept throwing punches.

“Everyone, break it up!” The order was punctuated with an intimidating crack from the whip.

_Not gonna work, lady…_ The two young men who’d started the altercation were wrapped around each other on the ground, each trying to pin the other. While Teryn grappled with a pair of patrons who’d decided that he was on the same side as the whip-weilding woman, he spotted her heading for the fray.

“Hey!” She grabbed one of the guys by the back of the jacket and hauled him off the other one. As soon as he was free, though, the young man underneath launched himself at the woman, hauling her to the ground and pummeling her face with his fists. She dropped the whip in order to grab him with both hands, shrieking.

The people who were considering fighting the Mandalorian backed off as he turned towards the writhing altercation, trying to separate the two fighters. The guy was taking rib shots and the woman, furious, stuck one of her fingers in each of his nostrils and pulled. His hands went to her wrists and she straddled him, pulling his face up towards her by his nose.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she barked, grabbing his collar with her free hand and giving him a shake.

“Hey!” Teryn stomped towards the two, and the other brawlers seemed to leap out of his way. “Clear out, you two! Quit it!”

The woman turned to glare at him, and Teryn realized for the first time she had to be around 20, and human. Her nose was bleeding and her hair was all over the place like some wild mane, and she looked like she was about to rip the guy’s throat out with her teeth. “None of your business,” she hissed, and then the guy she had a hold on grabbed her by the side of the head and rolled. Her skull hit the duraplast floor with a startling thump.

Teryn lunged as she dropped, and grabbed the guy before he did any more damage. He hauled the kid by the back of the shirt through the crowd, even as he protested, and pounded up the stairs that led to the street. In one motion, he tossed the boy into the sidewalk, watching him skid for a while and then haul himself up quickly, panicked.

“Get out!” Teryn boomed, but it wasn’t needed. The kid started running, and a few more human teenagers came out after him. It wasn’t exactly clear whether they were chasing him or retreating alongside him, but at this point Teryn didn’t care.

He stepped back inside to see the woman on the ground still, breathing, thankfully. Her whip was still humming a little way from where she lay, and none of the patrons dared approach her. However, the bartender was hurrying through the cluster of onlookers, snarling things as she shoved nervous and awestruck young partiers aside.

“Get outta here!” she growled, heading for the woman on the ground. “Ya pack a sleemos…”

“Is she okay?” Teryn asked, feeling wholly responsible. If he hadn’t distracted her, she would have won the fight. Not cleanly, but she’d have won. Now, she lay on her back, spattered in blood, with one of her heavy boots somehow missing.

“Huh,” the old bartender said, bending down and giving the younger woman a small slap on the cheek.

She stirred, rolled onto her side, and vomited. The crowd collectively groaned in disgust and started dispersing.

“ _Shab_ ,” Teryn cursed, falling to his knees and checking the girls’ half-lidded eyes. “She’s not looking too good…” He addressed the barkeep. “You need to call a medic. She probably needs to go to a hospital, just to make sure she’s alright. She could have a concussion.”

The bartender, her hands still braced against her knees, laughed humorlessly. It was more like a cackle. “Oh, thanks for the kind wishes, soldier boy, but Falkrowe’s got no ID and no money. Any doc treats her, its outta the goodness of their hearts.” She stood, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ll have the droid clean up the mess, ice her head. She’ll be fine.”

Teryn eyed the weapon on the ground, still on and crackling, and carefully pointed to it. “Can I turn that off? Is that hers?”

“Yeah, it’s hers. Careful with it, though.” The lady in charge was flagging down a small maintenance droid, which was shuffling reluctantly towards the mess.

The switch was small, but he found it. The light flickered out and the cord retracted into the hilt with a snap. Teryn slipped it into one of his belt pouches, found the semi-conscious woman’s other boot, and then bent over to pick her up.

“Hey, hey! You can’t be kidnappin’ her!” The bartender was angry, but certainly not going to fight a heavily-armored man like Teryn. “Let her be!”

“I have a medical bay on my ship, ma’am. She’ll be safe. I give you my word – she’ll be okay.”

Something in his voice, even though his face was hidden by a battle-worn helmet, convinced the woman. She set her hands on her hips, shook her head, and grunted, “fine. Be careful though. She’s the only bouncer I got, and the best one, too.”

Teryn looked down at the woman, who was coughing and wincing in a pool of blood and puke. “She’s your bouncer?”

The comment seemed to offend the barkeep. “What, a girl can’t knock heads for a living now and then? Man like yourself oughta know a thing or two about that.” She shooed him with her rag. “Now get, before I change my mind.”

“Sorry,” Teryn said, managing to slip the untied boot back onto the bouncer’s unwilling, wiggling foot. She looked up at him, puzzled, and he said, “I’m here to help. You’ll be okay.”

“…the hell you are,” the bouncer muttered, coughing as if she was about to throw up again.

“Come on, kid,” Teryn said reassuringly, lifting her under her knees and armpits. “I’m taking you to a doctor.”

She just groaned in response, screwing her eyes shut.

Teryn didn’t look back as he left. All he could think was, _my wife’s gonna kill me._ Then, a scarier thought: _Ba’buir’s gonna kill me, too._

The cold lights of Coruscant led the way as he walked.


	2. Introduce Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Teryn's split-second decision to bring home a stranger wasn't the smartest one. His family certainly doesn't think so.

It was very bright. So bright, it hurt her head to look at. Even after she closed her eyes, it continued to be bright. She was still in her clothes, sans shoes and jacket, and she had a blanket draped over her.

There was a man. He’d taken her to the hospital. Her brain assembled the scene slowly, adding more and more details as it pried them from her memories.

Work, a fight, those kriffing ganger kids again, and then somehow ending up on her back – not the usual turn of events. She remembered one kid underneath her, and she’d had him pretty good, and then there was a second guy. Huge, bearded, in green battle armor, with a wide lighter stripe down the center.

She remembered the armor being surprisingly warm against her face, too.

She rolled over on to one side, squinting in the direction of the most noise. There was talking – voices. Voices in a language she didn’t recognize. Her brain couldn’t make sense of it, and she couldn’t make sense of much else – it was like operating in a fog.

It scared her.

“Hey,” she croaked, finding her voice, finally. There were two men on the other side of the room, as well as another bed. The clean gray walls felt like the inside of a ship.

“ _Kaysh_ _ne’nuhola_ ,” one of them warned. “ _Ke’haa’tayli_!”

Someone approached her.

“Hey, kid,” he asked softly, leaning over her. She recognized his heavy plating – the man from the Smuggler’s Hold. Without his helmet, she saw that he had a round face with a braided beard. There were little metal beads woven in, and his eyes were smiling and kind. “What’s your name?”

“Thel,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“How do you feel?”

“How do I look?” she asked, feeling the characteristic hot swelling of bruises along her face and jaw. Her mouth tasted like blood, but all her teeth seemed to be intact.

The man above her winced. “You’ll be okay. Nothing broken. Does your head hurt?”

 _He must be a doctor_ , she thought. “Not a lot…” That was a lie.

The other man grunted from across the room. “Better not – you pumped enough painkillers into her. Plus the other ones.” His voice was rough, and sounded a little mechanical.

“Just lie here and get some rest,” the green-armored man told her. “I’ll be here, or Rassth will.”

“Rassth,” Thel repeated. “You’re…?”

“I’m Teryn. Of the Ihveen clan.” He checked the machine beside her bed. “You’re on our ship for now – you can go as soon as you feel better. We gave you some medicine, and that should help heal your head in the next day or so.” He was making every syllable as clear as possible – he had a faint, peculiar accent. “I’m sorry you got hurt in that fight.”

“Ih’s my job,” she explained, and he nodded, smiling.

“Good. Rest now, though.”

She nodded, her brain telling her to trust none of the guys, but her body thinking otherwise. She probably had a concussion.

 _First time for everything_ , she thought, but it was still incredibly unsettling.

At least she wasn’t dead, yet.

 

* * *

 

The _Dokma’s_ main room held a long wooden table, meant both for meetings and dining. Originally an Imperial ship, the Gozanti-class freighter had needed some major interior overhauls before its captain would accept it as a permanent residence. The huge slab of hardwood had been pockmarked by dropped knives, stained by paint, and re-lacquered so many times that most of the stains had grown permanent. They were now familiar constellations among alien skies.

Teryn traced one of them with his hand, trying to ignore his mother’s words.

“Are you serious?” she demanded. “Because I don’t think you get what this means.” Vatari Ihveen’s face had pinched itself inwards in tense frustration. “You should have commed before you made the decision.”

“I’m an adult,” Teryn protested. “You wanted me to just leave her there?”

“No, I wanted a comm message. How hard is that?” She paced around to the other side of the table, her leather kama swinging, the studs along its edges clicking against her battle-scarred burgundy plates. If Teryn hadn’t grown up with her, he’d probably be terrified of her. Teryn’s brother, Dack, sat sullenly at the other end of the table, and had been watching her the whole time. He wasn’t exactly terrified, but his grim expression certainly showed on his thin face.

Their mother continued. “We are holed up on this rock and you decide to take in the locals? Pick up a stray? What next – a mangy tooka from the sewers?”

“I told him to find a local,” came the reply.

Teryn and his mother turned to look at the captain, who sat quietly at the head of the table.

Captain Eedee Ihveen scowled at the rest of the clan, her round and wrinkled face broadcasting her displeasure. “Didn’t I?”

“She did,” said Dack, lifting his head from where he’d been resting it on his arms. “I heard her.”

“Yes,” his mother said, “but not an injured local that we’ll have to babysit. We have four days until we have to deliver that shipment and I am _not_ going to have the CSF poking their noses onto this ship because of a missing persons case!”

“I didn’t kidnap her,” Teryn said softly, sounding hurt. “I had to help her.”

“Does she have family?” Eedee wondered, looking down her nose at Vatari.

“She doesn’t. Or, at least, none that she wants to contact. I asked when she woke up again this afternoon.” Teryn picked at the tabletop with one gloved finger again. “And she says she lives in one of the slum apartments a block or two from the club.”

“Bouncer, huh?” Dack didn’t sound very impressed. His face, however, didn’t really lend itself well to the emotion. He usually alternated between looking smug and underwhelmed. “What’d you do, get in a barfight with her?”

“I did, as a matter of fact,” his brother sneered. “More of a fight than you’d put up.”

“I just wouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“Hey!” their mother snapped. “We can’t bicker about this.”

“We keep her,” Eedee said. “That’s final.”

Teryn sighed, relieved, and Vatari turned to glare.

“I won’t put up with some _aruetii_ running around on my ship,” she warned.

“You won’t.” Eedee got out of her chair and headed for her quarters, which were right off the main galley. At nearly seventy standard years old, she was entirely done with everyone’s petty nonsense. She had no time for it. “It’s not your ship,” she added, and slipped into her cabin.

Vatari exhaled slowly, and both her sons knew it as an expression of silent anger. She turned on them. “Do not trust this girl. She’s street scum.” Then, she headed for the stairs that led to the upper deck, where the individual crew quarters were.

Teryn stood to follow her. It was late at night – they’d allowed their guest to sleep for most of the day while he fussed over her, and saved the deliberation for later in the evening. As he dragged himself up the staircase, he wondered if his mother’s crankiness was simply cabin fever. They’d been holed up on the ship with very little freedom since they’d landed. They weren’t travelling to a destination, and they weren’t gearing up for a fight – they were just _waiting_ , trying not to attract attention.

 _I’m losing my mind,_ he decided, wandering down the hall to his and his wife’s room. The door slid open and he stepped into the darkness. Yes, the looming concept of fatherhood was already making him want to protect anyone and anything he could, including the kid they’d picked up. She was older than his younger sister, sure, but not that much older. A good eight years younger than him, maybe

Kaul was already asleep, and Teryn stripped off his armor quietly so as not to wake her. He grabbed some underclothes and headed for the refreshers at the end of the hall. He brushed his teeth, he wrestled his hair out of its braid and combed it, and then he headed back to his room.

This time, his wife was awake.

“ _Kaul’ika_ ,” he whispered. “It’s late. Sleep.”

“I wanna hear what happened,” she said quietly, yawning and moving over so her husband could squeeze onto their narrow shared bunk. “How upset is your mother?”

“Very.”

“Aw,” she said sadly, kissing him on the forehead and wrapping her arms around him. “Is the new kid kicked out yet?”

“Nope. _Ba’buir_ overruled _buir_. She’s staying, and I think we’ll ask her to guide us for the drop.”

“Huh. Still on that?”

“ _Ba’buir’s_ paranoid. That’s how she’s lived to be this old.”

Kaul snickered, and Teryn rolled over, letting her nuzzle her face into the back of his neck. She hugged him again from behind, settling in against him. “Your grandma is nuts.”

“That’s what you get, marrying into this wild family,” he said. “Nothing any of us can do but stand back and watch.” Teryn put a hand over his wife’s as she rubbed his chest. “How’re you doing, _cyar’ika_?” He tried to keep the worry from his voice and failed. “Still feeling sick?”

“A little,” she admitted. “I’ve had worse. I hear you got puked on.”

“Not _on_ , but certainly _at…_ ”

“Ha,” she said, patting him lovingly. “Look what you’ve got to look forward to!”

He sighed. Kaul had decided that motherhood was just another grand adventure, and that she would apply her usual brand of dauntless enthusiasm to every minute of it. In the meantime, dealing with her fussy husband was merely an inconvenience, though he knew she did appreciate his care.

“ _Ni cyari gar_ ,” he said.

Kaul just giggled. “ _Ni cyari gar_.”

Teryn fell asleep with his wife holding him, and the knowledge that pandemonium was on the horizon. Maybe it was un-Mandalorian of him, but one day, he would love to settle down somewhere, give the whole nomad thing a rest. Somewhere with trees, clean air, maybe a lake or two.

 _Yeah_ , he thought. _Just_ Kaul’ika, _me, and our family_.


	3. Hail to the Pirate Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thel learns a little more about her rescuers, and receives a very generous offer of employment.

“So you’re all related?” Thel wondered.

The man sitting on the bed opposite her seemed unimpressed. She couldn’t really tell, since she couldn’t see his face – his battered gray armor covered him from head to toe.

“We are, in a way,” he explained, a little frustrated. “I’m part of the family, but not anyone’s kid or husband or uncle or anything. But I’m family.”

“Huh.” Thel stared at him.

Teryn had said his name was Rassth, but he’d introduced himself as Varyl, so Varyl it was. He wasn’t as physically imposing as his clanmate, but made up for it in demeanor. He looked more like a proper soldier than a Mandalorian thug – the distinctive helmet and armor was recognizable enough that Thel could work out what these people were. She had only really read about Mandalorians in the context of bounty hunts and hired muscle, but in a way, she realized, the man she was staring at did a job pretty similar to hers.

Well, she liked to think that.

He held up the handle of her whip. “Where’d you get this thing, kid?”

“Bought it off my boss.” It had been quite the negotiation, for sure; the woman hadn’t really wanted to part with it, but had also never learned how to use it properly. “It’s rare.”

“This’s Imperial tech. Slaver _osik_.” His gravelly voice came through his helmet’s amplifier as a snarl. “Where’s a club bouncer learn to use this kinda weapon?”

“It’s not really a weapon,” Thel admitted. “It’s nonlethal - it’s crowd control. It’s a rowdy place.”

Varyl wasn’t buying any of it. “How’d you learn it?”

“I taught myself.” That was true – she’d practiced with a regular bantha-hide whip of the same length.

“Hm.” He handed her the handle. “Are you some kind of carnival freak? Or do you just do this for fun?”

Thel didn’t like his tone. “I do my job,” she said, coldly. “I keep the gangers and narc dealers out and break up the fights.”

He tilted his head, staring at her bruised face. She’d been applying cold packs and bacta to it to keep down the swelling, but her skin was still discolored and hot to the touch. It certainly didn’t look like she’d broken up the fight. Her dark, un-brushed ponytail had started escaping its tie, and the rest of her smelled like vomit. Some warrior she was.

“Must be good,” Varyl said, and Thel wasn’t sure if he was serious.

She was still busy taking in the details of his armor – she’d never been this close to anything like it. Each plate was battered and burned, with blaster marks, chipped paint and a hint of rust. Dirt and dust covered his armored boots and lower legs, and settled into the folds and seams of the many pouches and pockets he had affixed to his body. There were some on his belt, some on a bandolier across his chest, and a large knife strapped to one of his thighs.

“What do you guys do?” Thel asked, setting the whip down on her bed.

He snorted. “What _don’t_ we do? Hunt down criminals who have bounties on their heads, transport goods, transport people, retrieve information, occasionally retrieve…” He tilted his head slightly. “…Exciting cargo.”

“Piracy,” she ventured. “You’re… pirates?” She hoped not to offend him. He didn’t seem like he was a danger to her, though – the protective larger man in green had exchanged tense words with him earlier in their native language, and it seemed that she was under his protection.

Varyl nodded. “Privateers, more like, but yes. We get hired a lot to board ships, take cargo, take prisoners. Pirate crews have good bounties on their heads, most of the time.”

“But… not you guys?”

Varyl laughed. “Nobody’s put out a bounty for us, yet, and if they did, nobody would want to take them up on it unless the price was absurd. We try not to get anyone riled up – usually, the people we do mess with are already in prison or worse by the time we’re done with them.”

He was being awfully revealing. “Why tell me?”

The man behind the black visor was silent. It was as if she’d taken him off-guard. “The captain wants to hire you,” he said slowly, as though she should already know by now. “Didn’t Teryn tell you?”

_Hire me? What does a Mandalorian pirate captain want with me?_ Thel rubbed her head. Maybe it had slipped her mind – time had been weird for the past day. She’d slept most of the day after she’d arrived, and now most of this morning. The crew seemed to be avoiding her – their medic droid advised “limited socialization” – or else was busy doing their jobs. There was no background engine hum, so they were still on Coruscant, as Teryn had promised.

Varyl was still searching her eyes, it seemed. Thel wasn’t sure how she could tell, but she had that feeling. “You’re not quite up to speed yet, are ya, kid?” he asked, slowly.

She shook her head. “Probably not. Give it to me again.”

“We have three days, including today, left on this rock. We have to deliver a package to someone on this world that paid good money for us to carry it, and then we have to ferry a family to some outer-rim world.”

“Sounds like a lotta work.”

“It is. The CSF could have our heads if we mess either mission up while on their planet.”

Thel was intimately familiar with the CSF, and some twitch of her battered face must’ve betrayed that fact.

“You’ve got a record, don’t you?” Varyl asked, getting to the heart of the matter with startling accuracy.

She said nothing.

“Chobb’s knob, you _do_ …” Varyl sat back and let out a low whistle. It sounded strange under the helmet. “What’d you do – robbery? Murder? Arson?”

“None of your kriffing business,” she muttered, but the Mandalorian was silent. Waiting. Nervously, she corrected herself: “Aggravated assault.”

“Hm.” He nodded. “Well, now we know. Not that we care.”

Thel spotted a set of frayed, dirtied black braids dangling from one of Varyl’s shoulders, fastened beneath his shoulder plate. They were impossibly shiny where the dirt hadn’t gotten to them, and had an otherworldly iridescence. Thel could understand if he didn’t care about an aggravated assault charge; those were trophies.

She didn’t ask. Merely nodded. “Thank you. I wish there was something I could do to re-pay you all for caring for me. If I can –“

“Help us scout the dropoff point and point a blaster at anyone who tries to stop us,” Varyl ordered her. “That’s what you can do. If _Ba’buir’s_ feeling charitable, she’ll pay you, and maybe keep you on as a hand.” He pointed his chin at her bloodied shirt. “How much do you make stopping fights in that dump, anyway?”

“Ten creds an hour.”

He scoffed. “You pay rent, kid?”

“Yeah. Kinda.”

“Well, you’ll get more from us. Plus medical, room and board. Sound good?”

Her brain was still fuzzy. It sounded a lot like a kidnapping to Thel. “Give me a bit to think, okay?” she asked.

The Mandalorian stood. “Alright, kid. Think about it. We’re dragging you up to dinner tonight, with the captain and first mate. Clean yourself up.”

She nodded. “Thanks. I’ll try.”

 

* * *

 

 

Varyl was already doing the calculations in his head as he left the med bay. How much to feed her? How much to give her a nice blaster? The answer was; too much. Unless she was useful, which he knew Teryn would swear up and down about.

In the lounge outside, Jenz was already waiting for him.

“Is she awake yet?” The girl had a peculiar nasality to her voice that made her sound somewhat resentful half the time. “Or is she gonna sleep for another day?”

“She’s gotten knocked around hard, kiddo,” Varyl told her, joining her at the long table. “She’s not ready for duty, yet. Give it about a day, she’ll be fine.”

“Duty? What are we, adopting her?” She sounded skeptical, but he knew she was interested. In the tail end of her teens, Jenz was starting to get restless. Anything new and exciting was sure to have her attention, and she was sure to talk about it for hours afterwards. She was one of those people who, unlike Varyl, was never short of words.

“The captain’s hiring her, if she’ll accept.”

“Hm.” Jenz played with her braid, thinking it over. She had a little heart-shaped face with blunted bangs and hair that hung past her waist. It wasn’t quite as dark as her mother’s, but there was a lot of it, a trait Vatari shared. As the smallest of the clan, she certainly had to prove herself in combat, and that she did. A large, ornate dagger was sheathed at her side, and she wasn’t shy about using it.

If Jenz was any marker of Mandalorian capability, Varyl suspected Thel still had a lot of catching-up to do, if she was going to so much as work on the ship.

“Teryn said she was a little wild out there,” said Jenz, with a hint of wariness. “Can we trust her?”

“She’s surrounded by a clan of Mandalorians, and she has one weapon, and it’s close range. Nothing we can’t blast to bits – she’s unarmored.” He tapped Jenz’s dark blue plates with one knuckle. “She’s not pulling _osik_.”

“Good.” Jenz nodded. “Glad to hear it. It means I can relax for a bit. Maybe do some reading.” She held up her datapad, which she’d connected to the holonet almost as soon as they’d landed. Though Varyl wasn’t exactly sure _what_ she was always hunched over, he suspected it was the same brand of trite romance fiction Teryn got excited over when he had nothing better to do. At least there was no singing involved in books. A good musical holovid would send the two Ihveen brothers careening through a litany of songs for hours - drinking songs or showtunes, depending on the night.

Varyl just nodded and left Jenz to her book.

 

* * *

 

Vatari had just started serving an enormous pot of thick stew, and was handing Jenz a bowl, when Teryn brought her the news.

“Thel’s getting ready. She’s feeling a lot better.”

She nodded, saying nothing, but shooting a sharp look at Eedee’s spot at the head of the table. The whole clan had gathered for dinner, seating themselves in the ship’s central room, muttering amongst themselves.

“Good to see her up,” Varyl grunted, removing his helmet to take a sip of water. Without his visor to cover his face, his narrow jaw and deep-set eyes were the only color on him. Even his hair – a short, sandy-brown military cut – seemed garish compared to his neutral gray exterior. “I used the good meds on her. If that doesn’t do it, we’ve got another problem.”

“A noble cause,” Eedee agreed. “Thank you for treating her, _ad’ike_.” Perched at the end of the table, the Ihveen matriarch was in her full regalia. Normally, her tan flightsuit and seafoam-teal armor wad enough, but she’d added an ornate golden rope under one of her shoulder plates, clarifying her status as the person in power. She had a chain of trophies slung under her other arm as well, and the shiny baubles and pieces of charred metal jingled as she shifted in her seat. Her short hair was a severe white against her colorful armor, but despite her age, her eyes were sharp and full of life.

Dack looked nervous, and craned his neck to see if he could peer into the med bay, even though the door was closed. He’d even shaved for the occasion. His sister Jenz, beside him, seemed unimpressed with his behavior.

“She’ll show up when she’s good and ready. This isn’t some dignitaries’ gala, it’s a business deal.”

“We never get guests,” he explained. “It’s just weird to meet someone who isn’t going to either shoot us or pay us to shoot someone else. We’ve never hired subcontractors.”

Teryn chuckled, leaning on the wall beside the med bay door. “Fair point, _vod_.”

Kaul emerged from the room, looking regal as ever in her shining silver plates. They’d been polished up nicely, though some residual charring still hid where plates overlapped. There were far too many pieces of metal on her to make pure _beskar_ armor practical, so she’d opted for a lighter alloy, making scratches inevitable. She wore them with pride, though – they were edged in a yellowed form of the same metal. It almost matched her golden hair, which hung in braids down over her chest.

With a soft clanging, she stepped forward, giving her husband a peck on the cheek. “Be nice,” she said, and took her usual seat with the others. He followed, silent.

Thel slipped out between the doors, stopping for a moment to take in the spectacle of a clan of armored Mandalorians. She pulled her short jacket around her, looking at each in turn. Kaul had brought her a spare shirt to wear, and it hung from her, but she looked better than she had before.

“Welcome,” Eedee said, standing with a faint metallic jingle. “Please, sit.”

Thel slipped into the empty chair that had been left for her, situated between Teryn and his wife. She noticed that each of the place settings included what seemed like a dedicated gap, occupied by each person’s helmet. Across the table from her, Jenz was studying Thel’s face critically.

“I’m Captain Eedee Ihveen of the _Dokma_ , and this is my daughter, Vatari.” The captain gestured to the woman beside her, who had just sat down. She looked like a meaner, younger version of her mother, with flaring shoulder plates stacked four high on each side, like small wings.

Thel nodded to her, respectfully, and Eedee continued. “My grandsons Teryn and Dack –“ she gestured to the skinny guy in the indigo plates who practically leaned across the table to get a closer look at Thel.

“…And granddaughter Jenz...”

Jenz smiled politely, already starting to stir her bowl of steaming stew.

“…And you met Kaul Ran-Shok, my granddaughter-in-law, and then our mechanic and medic, Rassth Varyl.”

After spending so long studying Varyl’s armor, Thel was surprised to see him without his helmet. He stared at her with a blank expression and shadowed eyes, picking at his food.

Having introduced all the diners, the captain sat, exhaling slowly. “Now, Thel…” She squinted, searching for a surname.

“Falkrowe. Thel Falkrowe.”

“Mm. Thel Falkrowe. I have a deal for you, and I think it’s something you’ll appreciate…” She leaned forward, the steam from her food wafting up around her face. “How familiar are you with the five-block radius around that club my grandson found you at?”

Thel didn’t dare start eating yet. “I live there. I’m very familiar.”

Eedee’s round face got progressively more wrinkled as her grin grew wider. “Hmm. What about the plaza – the shopping square nearby?”

“I hang around there all the time. There’s a tapcaf I like to –“

“That’s all,” the old woman said, stroking her chin. She had a few wispy hairs there that she seemed to be playing with. “That’ll work. Now, how good are you with a blaster?”

She faltered. Thel had one blaster and it was a small hold-out she kept in her apartment for self-defense. “I’m… decent,” she said, keeping her hands still on the table. “It depends on what kind of blaster we’re talking.”

This didn’t seem to bother Eedee. “Do you have connections here? Family? Close friends?”

That hurt a little. “Not… particularly. What are you saying?”

With a twinkle in her eyes, Eedee reached into one of the pouches on her belt, and produced a small cloth bag. She passed it to Teryn, who handed it to Thel. It jingled, heavy with metal – Thel opened the drawstring, peering inside.

Credit chits. A lot of them.

She looked up to meet Eedee’s eyes. The old woman looked like she was having a wonderful time. “Have you ever held that much money in your life, child?”

Thel shook her head, silent.

“Would you like to come off-planet with us?” Eedee delivered the question softly, as if speaking to a small animal. “It doesn’t have to be forever – we can bring you back here when you decide you’re done.”

It was a tough question. Thel set the bag down, beside her bowl of warm food. There was no method to it – no job interview, no resume, no test of skill. It was as if she’d been chosen entirely by fate, by random happenstance; just some poor kid who happened to live in a very specific bad part of the city and have experience being a mean-looking, judgmental goon.

She looked around at the Mandalorians, in their battered armor, with their rich meal, with their little family, and nodded.

“I’ll go,” Thel said. “Wherever you want me.”

“ _Jate_ ,” Eedee said, nodding. “ _Jate_.”


	4. Move House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dack, the captain's grandson, takes Thel home so she can gather her things. From there on out, she knows, home will be very different.

 

The Mandalorians’ ship had been named after an alien creature Thel couldn’t remember the exact nature of, and was too nervous to ask about. It was bigger than she’d first thought - its cargo hold was large enough to hide an airspeeder with very little trouble. Not a nice airspeeder, but a speeder. It smelled like blasterfire and charred wood when she and Dack slipped inside, and the windshield was cracked and a little frosted.

Thel looked out the window at the pulsing city lights as they flew, fairly certain the city was beautiful, but at the same time, hideous. How that thought actually worked had been the subject of her silent pondering for the past few minutes.

Abruptly, Dack switched lanes, and Thel grabbed the side of the door for support.

“What, afraid I’m a bad driver?” he chuckled, somehow seeing her despite not turning to look. _Visibility in that helmet can’t be_ that _good,_ Thel thought, wondering if he had some kind of sensor hidden in it. Its scratched blue exterior gave her no clues, though.

“No, it’s fine, I’m not worried,” she lied. Since she didn’t own an airspeeder, she couldn’t exactly complain. “Just a little queasy, still.”

The mando grunted, and the speeder’s engine whined as they sped up a bit. The craft had to be pushing 20 standard years old – maybe it was older – but didn’t stick out too much in this part of town. The _Dokma_ had been parked much too far from Thel’s native block for anyone to walk, and it occurred to her than Teryn had carried her that whole way, earlier.

“Left, up here,” she reminded the driver, and he nodded, double-checking the nav computer. Even with the flashing alerts on the dashboard, Dack almost missed a turn.

“Sorry.” He sounded distracted. “Just… catching up a bit.”

“On what?”

“The holonet.”

Thel gaped. “Are you serious? You’ve got a datapad hooked up to that thing?”

He finally turned his head to fix her with a blank, visored stare. “What? I can do both at once.”

“Not if you’re getting lost!”

“Calm down…” He scoffed, hanging one of his arms out the open driver’s side window, leaning on the door. “I won’t crash us. See?” He took the next turn slow, heading down Thel’s familiar stretch of seedy restaurants, all-night convenience stores, and a dimly-lit den of ill repute. Dusk had long since settled in, and the lights were flickering to life down here in the lower levels.

She wondered if she’d ever come back.

“This one, up there,” she said, pointing to her building. Dack slowed the speeder, rounding the corner and coming to rest on a landing platform that jutted from the wide walkway around the building.

He leaned forwards to peer around Thel, getting a better look at the place. “ _’Muscle Planet_?’ You live in a gym?” He looked around again, taking in the 24-hour fried-food joint and a lounge next door with cracked, smoke-clouded windows. “What, like a drifter?”

“No, I live upstairs. The gym just owns the apartments up there.” She opened the speeder door, stepping out and heading for the side entrance of the squat building. As Dack followed, Thel spotted two rodian teens on the front steps, talking to a scantily-clad twi’lek boy. All three of them turned to watch.

The Mandaloran nodded, following Thel, his long gray skirt billowing behind him. He'd corrected her sharply when she called it that, shortly after they met - _kama_ was the Mandalorian word for "skirt", apparently.

“How long is this going to take you?” Dack wondered, sticking close as Thel went to the side entrance and opened the door to the airlock outside the turbolift. That was the only way in, it seemed. 

“Not long… I’ve been moving around a lot so I’ve kept things simple.”

The turbolift doors opened, revealing a unique, unpleasant smell. Thel wrinkled her nose, swiping an ID card on the control panel, and waited as the lift mechanism started up.

“Nice place,” Dack said, only slightly sarcastic. They climbed three stories before the turbolift came to a shuddering halt, opening on a gray hallway.

Music thumped from behind one of the doors, and Thel ignored it as best she could as they hurried down the hall. She felt as though she was already committing some great crime – running away from home, going off-grid. In a way, she was, but she realized that she was free to do so. A note to her awful landlord, a written apology to her boss, and she was out. She didn’t have real furniture, even – when she and Dack got to her door, she opened it to reveal her cramped room.

“Oh,” he said, standing outside.

“I told you – living on a ship isn’t going to bother me.” Thel’s room was a bit of a mess – boxes were laid on the floor, open but half-empty, and clothes were littered about on her small bed. She grabbed her hamper and began throwing things inside at random, leaving Dack to stare and stress about fitting it all inside the airspeeder.

“Do you need me to go get Varyl? He’ll move your stuff, he’s a trained professional…”

Thel vanished into the small attached refresher, and he heard the clattering of bottles. “No, we’ll make a few trips. It’s fine.”

Her pale walls weren’t decorated, but just by looking around at her mess, one got a sense of who Thel Falkrowe was. Most of her clothes were dark and drab like his, and she had at least four half-constructed sewing projects laying around on the floor. There were scraps of fabric, a spilled container of glittery beads, and some tools laid out around what looked to be a flattened hip holster. It looked like she’d been trimming the leather.

“You do… sewing?” Dack wondered aloud, watching Thel emerge with a toiletries bag that only zipped halfway. 

“Sometimes. I work on costumes for the dancers when they need ‘em. Someone loses a zipper, someone’s bodyglove tore…” She kicked at a jacket that had a large hole in one sleeve. “Repair work. Gives me some extra creds here and there, and some spare clothes if someone’s done with them.”

“Pack it up, whatever it is,” he told her, grabbing the nearest box. This one was full of work boots suspiciously identical to the pair she was currently clomping around in. “What can I move?”

They worked in silence for a little while, throwing stuff into boxes and bags and open crates until they had Thel’s things arranged in a pile near the door. Quite a lot of it ended up in a waste bin by her bed, and she occasionally went out into the hall to dump it down a chute.

True to her word, though, Thel kept most of her packing materials in the small closet, and she didn’t take any furniture besides a small folding table and a worn-looking stool. The latter looked like it had once belonged in a bar and had been removed and modified to stand on its own.

It all felt very sudden. Thel stood for a moment, as a man she barely knew carried almost everything she owned towards a waiting airspeeder.

The floor was vast and bare, as if the room had grown in size the more she stripped from it. The more things she piled in – clothes, pieces of flimsiplast with old concert setlists, half-sewn tunics – the smaller the space had gotten. Now, it was all gone. 

_No_ , she reminded herself – _not gone, coming with me_. She trusted Captain Ihveen and her warm grandson and his kind wife too much. The thought had certainly crossed her mind that the Mandalorians were simply going to kill her and sell her personal affects for profit, though. Thel wasn’t particularly trusting – perhaps her concussion had scrambled her brain too much. But there was a feeling, something vague yet present, that told her she was going to be fine. She called it a hunch.

She changed in her bathroom, thankful for some clean clothes after a few days of wearing the same thing. Her face was healing – Kaul had put some makeup on it to cover the discoloration, before dinner. She’d be fine, she thought. 

There was no taking the bed or mattress, but Dack helped her remove the bedsheets, and those went in the second trip of bags and boxes. Between runs to the speeder, Thel took out her pistol belt and strapped her blaster to the small of her back. 

“Wow,” Dack said, looking her up and down. “You look like _osik_. Remind me to have you shower when we get back to the ship.”

She snorted. “Thanks. I’ll come hose down your filthy armor while I’m at it.”

“You can try, _burcya_ , but it won’t get you very far…” He held his hands out to indicate his somewhat muddy exterior. How he got muddy in the dead vacuum of space, Thel wasn’t about to ask.

When they finally cleared the apartment, Thel took one last look. Outside, the lights of Coruscant shone through the cold drizzle, wavering like mirages. That’s all they were – products she’d never buy, bars she’d never set foot in, and holodramas she didn’t care to watch. The city was so full, but suddenly it felt very empty.

“Let’s go.”

“You got everything?” He didn’t wait to double-check. The two left the building, carrying duffel bags and backpacks over their shoulders like bandits.

The rodian teenagers were still outside on the raised steps of the gym, looking like they hadn’t gotten into enough trouble, yet. One of them muttered something as Thel and Dack passed, and the Mandalorian stopped short, aiming one ear in their direction.

“Hm?” His voice was loud over his helmet’s speakers.

None of them said a word.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said politely, and then added, “stay in school, kids.”

Then, the two of them were on their way.

Thel’s things didn’t quite fill the back of the airspeeder, since two of the back seats were simply missing, but Dack still seemed inconvenienced by the lack of rear vision. He craned his helmeted head out the open side window as they took off.

On the main skylane, Thel felt like falling asleep. Her native neon-soaked streetcorners faded, giving way to industrial-looking warehouses, half-empty shopping complexes, and then middle-class apartments. The great city had been hit hard during the Vong war, and even after many years, it was still growing back slow in some areas. In some, it hadn’t grown back much at all.

“Where were you born?” she asked Dack, not caring whether he answered or not.

He didn’t hesitate, though. “Space. The med bay.”

“Really?” that surprised her. “And your brother and sister?”

“Same thing. _Ner_ _buire_ always said there was no reason to make planetfall – we’d get attached, never want to keep moving. But that’s how it is – home is always with you, but home is never quite where it was last week.”

“Hm.” Nomads. Thel had heard a bit about nomad cultures when she was in school. On board a ship like the _Dokma_ , it seemed pretty easy. You’d have to get along with the people you lived with, which she wasn’t sure she’d be too good at, but at least she had more living area on the ship than she had back at her apartment. That was a start.

The tour of the ship after dinner had given her a lot of information, information she wasn’t sure her rattled head was quite ready to soak up.

“What’s ‘nehr booeeray’?” she wondered.

“Parents,” muttered Dack. “My parents.”

“Where’s your dad?”

A little chuckle resonated in his helmet. “Somewhere.”

“Away?” Thel wondered.

Dack sounded wistful. “Away.”

She lay back in her seat. “How long till you see him again?” Then, she realized she was probably overstepping her boundaries. “If you don’t mind me asking… sorry…”

He turned his head briefly to look at her. “It’s okay. I have no idea when I’ll see him again, or if I ever will.” 

“That far away, huh?”

“Yep.”

Thel got the feeling it was a euphemism for something Dack didn’t want to discuss. He certainly didn’t look as open to conversation as his older brother – he was all angles, all sharp things and mysterious shadow. There was a surprising number of throwing knives strapped to his belt, and the plates on his forearms were studded with some sharp-looking projectiles.

As they reached the upper levels, Thel wondered what her parents would think. She’d comm them in the morning, let them know she’d picked up a new job, moved off-world. She didn’t need to say goodbye, really. She’d done that years ago. She just didn’t want them to think she was dead.

The flashing neon signs seemed to fade, giving way to grand towers in gold and gray and chrome, lights glittering in great bands around circular buildings. The speeder followed the skylanes between two massive, squat buildings, and then took a left towards the landing strip where the _Dokma_ had parked. 

“Pretty,” Dack muttered, slightly distorted. “Sure you wanna leave this place?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s never done much for me.” Thel picked at a stray thread on her pants, which were ripped near the knee from too much use. “It’ll be nice to get a change of scenery.”

“Mm.” The Mandalorian shrugged. “Well you’ll get lots of that. That’s for sure.”

“What is it with you guys, just taking me in, all of a sudden?” She was starting to wonder if they had an ulterior motive.

“You want the honest answer?” He turned his black visor on her, staring her down. Thel nodded. “My brothers a _dikut_ , my sister is lonely, our mechanic’s _dini’la_ and the two people actually in charge are using you as a pawn in a power play. Does that help?”

She laughed. “Yeah, actually, it does.” Then, she wondered, “what does that make you?”

“A low-life,” he said bluntly. “But certainly someone on your side.”

Thel nodded, hoping he saw her, as they came down between the _Dokma_ and another lumbering freighter. “I have no idea what ‘dineelah’ is, though.”

Dack was silent for a moment, but Thel heard his muffled voice through his helmet – he was speaking to someone. Then, the platform that led to the cargo lift began lowering itself from the underbelly of the ship. He turned to Thel.

“It means ol’ Rassth has a screw loose. Watch him. And watch my sister, too – she talks too much. It’ll drive you nuts.”

“Thanks.” Thel waited as they slowly pulled up onto the lift, and then were carried up into the ship’s glow once again.

This was going to be a tougher job than Thel thought.


	5. Deliver the Package

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the Ihveens encounter their client, and must navigate the prickly situation as a team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short and sweet!

Even if the actual drop worried Teryn, there was always the knowledge that someone had a set of crosshairs on the back of his head. And the backs of his mother’s head, and the back of his grandmother’s. In fact, very soon, those crosshairs would start darting around to brand new heads as a certain in-helmet targeting system started tagging the important people.

Knowing his brother was watching certainly helped Teryn relax. He needed it, too – Varyl wasn’t going to appear in public out of armor, which left Vatari as their only trained combatant. Thel was… a wildcard, in all honesty, but she could probably throw a mean punch at the very least.

The Ihveens were, for all intents and purposes, a family of filthy, lawless pirates, and anyone who dealt with them knew it. The gang was not going to risk getting ripped off.

The three of them stood in plainclothes, trying to look like they weren’t a crime family waiting to do a drug deal. Eedee, in just about the brightest tourist’s outfit she could have possibly dug up, was sitting on a park bench looking slightly senile and resting her wrinkled hands on a large purple suitcase. Next to her, Vatari pretended to check her datapad, similarly dressed. Thel was lurking near a tapcaf, on comms, her eyes darting around at every storefront and any group of people more than three strong. The people they were meeting didn’t know she existed, didn’t know she was with the Ihveens, and most importantly didn’t know she was armed.

“You doing okay, kid?” asked Teryn, looking across the square at her. He didn’t want her to blow their cover, but he also didn’t want her to be bored out of her mind. “Do you need something to eat? We have –“ he checked his chrono – “two more minutes.”

“It’s okay,” she said, coming in clearly, though one of her feet was tapping nervously. “I can wait.”

Teryn grunted his approval, shoving his hands in his pockets. His drab undercover clothing felt almost more conspicuous than Vatari and Eedee’s – the rest of this section of Coruscant was dressed far more fluorescently than he was. He’d deal with it, though.

“ _Dak’ika_?” he whispered, pretending he was speaking to Eedee again. She looked up, and Dack answered.

“I think I have their speeder,” he reported. “They’re close. Coming your way.”

Teryn nodded, knowing his brother could see him. Dack was positioned on a wide ledge meant for maintenance access – his low-profile jetpack let him reach some fairly unusual places and stay there, unnoticed, until the time came to thoroughly wreck things.

“They’re coming,” Teryn told his mother, and she nodded thoughtfully. Thel started wandering towards a trash bin and Eedee simply sat, seemingly unaware of the situation around her.

“What’re we looking for?” Thel whispered, and Teryn gave her sharp exhale that said “shut it.”

She fell silent.

“Got ‘em,” crackled Dack, and suddenly the group came into view.

There were only three of them – a man and two women – and they looked like a trio of businesspeople out for an evening networking stroll. The information broker who’d set up the deal had provided both sides with visual documentation of each other, so Teryn knew he was looking for a heavy-set man with graying hair and a moustache. And, walking slightly behind the two bodyguards, there he was.

The word Ram’ser had given the Ihveens was that Dr. Warden – yes, that was his street name – had in fact once been a real doctor in a real prison, somewhere in the mid-rim. After retiring and then, somehow, realizing his retirement fund wasn’t going as far as he’d hoped, he turned to a new profession and began managing a lucrative business selling designer drugs. Nothing bad, Ram’ser assured them, but something that was rubbing every local pusher he came in contact with the wrong way.

Inside the purple luggage Eedee had brought was a cryochamber with vials upon vials of the latest prototype, ferried carefully by various smugglers all the way from a hospital on Dantooine.

Dr. Warden spotted the family immediately and approached with calculated nonchalance. Thel stayed put, her eyes still darting about, and Teryn started walking towards the other group.

“Mrs. Ihveen!” the doctor greeted him, smiling warmly. His jacket was slightly too small for him but nicely detailed with accents of crimson firesilk. “You’re right on time.”

“We try.” Vatari stepped towards him and shook his hand firmly.

“Are you having a good vacation?” the man wondered, his dark face crinkling with a warm smile. “It’s lovely here this time of year.”

“The food is nice,” she admitted. “The lights are taking some time to get used to.”

With a nod, Dr. Warden gestured to where Eedee sat. Her eyes glinted, one hand on the handle of the bag. “I see you’ve packed accordingly?”

The old woman smiled, and there was nothing infirm about her. She stood fluidly. “We have. Ram’ser was nice enough to give us a packing list.”

“Great.” The doctor looked around the shopping square, his hands in his pockets. “I appreciate you coming in person. I’ve been meaning to ask you a question. Do you have a minute?”

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” Thel announced, and only the Ihveens heard her, and Teryn watched her dark hair bobbing in the crowd as she headed in the direction the gang members had come.

“Sure,” purred Eedee. “What would you like to ask me about?”

“I’ve been having… trouble running my business lately. Too many competitors.”

She tilted her head, looking sympathetic. “Hm.”

Warden was still all smiles. “I understand that you have a large family, and they do all kinds of work for all kinds of people. I’m in need of a… security expert. Your people have a very unique uniform that I’d love to showcase through my business.”

She wasn’t buying it. “Well,” Eedee said, her voice still level, “when you have the credits to buy your own set of custom _beskar’gam_ , then we’ll talk.”

“How much?”

“Too much for you.”

In the comms channel, Thel made a nervous noise. “Don’t mess with him,” she warned, then thought better of the comment.

For a moment, it looked like Dr. Warden was about to say something else. His round face seemed to puff up, and his eyes blinked rapidly, and then he seemed to reconsider. “If you ever decide to reconsider, Mrs. Ihveen, give me a number. I’d be happy to employ one of your grandchildren. They’re good kids.”

From the other side of the square, Thel whispered, “they have another two people here, by the street opposite the one they came down, and they’re armed. Watch it.”

Vatari gave the man an empty, somewhat threatening smile. “They’re a real handful,” she said, and the doctor chuckled nervously.

“Can I help you with your luggage?” he asked, and Eedee smiled, adopting the demeanor of a friendly grandmother.

“Yes, thank you. That’s very nice of you. It’s heavy.”

“I’m sure.” The man gestured, and one of the aides took the bag. She fiddled with a machine in her other hand, watching lines jump as it scanned the bag. Satisfied, she turned and started walking, and her associate followed back towards the street they’d come down.

From the roof, Dack said, “they just dumped the creds in the business account. We got it.”

Eedee’s grin grew wider, and she nodded approvingly. The doctor and his people knew this was the indication that they were done.

“We’ll be in touch. Thank you for your help.” This time, he seemed genuine. With one last fatherly dip of the head, Dr. Warden turned and followed his bodyguards.

“Found their sniper,” Dack suddenly chimed in. “Thought I should let you know, when you had a moment...”

“Nice,” Thel answered. “I don’t see anyone else I recognize as the Doctor’s people, though. They’re clearing out.” She began heading towards the rest of the group.

“You sure about that? We blew him off pretty well,” admitted Teryn.

“I know these people. Lots of his clients come into my club. They’re pretty distinct – they look like they’re not up to anything but business as usual.”

“Aren’t we?” asked Vatari, smiling to her son as Thel came closer.

“We are,” he agreed.

They heard the sound of Dack’s rifle being disassembled over the comm. “Meet you at the speeder, _vode_. Their guy’s packing it in, too.”

“ _Shab_ ,” Vatari muttered. “Where was he?”

“Just right across from me. The more obvious spot, of course.”

“ _Aruettise_ ,” scoffed his mother, looking up at the ledges, landings and balconies that overlooked the center. Lights winked in the apartments, shops, and offices above. “They just don’t do these things like we do, do they?”

“No,” Thel said, stepping up to the bench with hands in her jacket pockets. “I guess they don’t.”


	6. Get Off Coruscant Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While leaving for a safe world on the outer rim, the crew of the _Dokma_ hit a slight snag. A snag with blasters.

When they got back to the _Dokma_ , Varyl was waiting in the cockpit, still in full armor and looking sour.

“Guests are here.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Vatari sighed, stripping off her colorful shirt to reveal a second, plainer shirt underneath.

Jenz was still in armor, too. Until they hit space, they were on duty. Now that Thel had received all the information about their mission, she understood why. If any of the indigenous sleemos found out that they were carrying drugs for Dr. Warden, they’d be hunted down where they parked. Armor ensured that if they were hunted down, they’d live to tell the tale.

“Did Ram’ser call?” Eedee asked. “I told him to call.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Varyl’s voice bobbed melodically over the word. “I let him know you had everything under control and that you were ready for the next job.”

Thel must have looked particularly lost, because Eedee told her what was going on: “We’re going to take one of the Warden’s people and his family to a backwater world. They’ve run afoul of someone, and their boss is paying us to have them moved.”

“Huh. Nice guy for a drug dealer,” muttered Dack.

Varyl leaned one elbow on the dashboard and chuckled. “Do you know what was in those vials, kid?”

With a comical shrug, Dack guessed, “I don’t know, narcotics? Liquid spice? Who cares.”

“They’re vaccines,” Varyl said. “The local dealers have it out for him because his stuff counteracts dependency. Ram’ser said this batch is supposed to make junkies immune to the effects of death sticks. They take his stuff, it makes their body reject whatever they’re hooked on, and they stop buying drugs from the other guy. It’s a nightmare.”

With a wink, Eedee climbed the steps into the cockpit. “It’s a good business model. They don’t want to get hooked again so they buy a booster every year. First year is quarter price, anything after that is more. He’s smart. Better make sure the boys in blue don’t get their hands on it if he wants to keep making creds…”

Apparently Varyl had been privy to the comms from the drop, because he shook his head disapprovingly. “And he wants a _mando_ bodyguard? That’s asking for trouble.”

“Nobody looks twice at _mando’ade_ here,” Vatari chimed in, switching places with her mother. “I’ll show the other speeder in.” She headed towards the doors at the other end of the galley. Thel had already been shown the guest bed, so the passengers would have to sleep in their speeder, in the hold.

“Are they going to fit?” Jenz asked, getting up from the galley table and hurrying after her mother. “I’ll have to move the crates closest to the lift…”

“I’ll make them fit,” Vatari assured her, and the two vanished through the doorway.

Hearing commotion below, Teryn’s wife came down the stairs. Out of armor, she looked soft and somewhat sleepy.

“Are they here?” she asked, heading to the conservator and opening it. Her loose white tunic had black grease stains on it. “Should I put on something nicer?”

“Not yet,” Varyl grunted, getting up to let Dack take the copilot’s seat.

Kaul rubbed her eyes. “Where’s Teryn?”

“The hold, doing the heavy lifting in that ridiculous outfit,” called Dack.

“ _Shab_. Guess I better say hello.” She didn’t sound particularly excited to. “Do you want to come, Thel?”

Thel saw nothing better to do. “Sure.” She followed Kaul through the two sets of doors leading to the cargo hold. Voices echoed slightly in the chamber as heavy boxes scraped against the grate of the floor. Some of the crates were provisions that didn’t require refrigeration, and some were merely supplies like towels, soap, bacta, and linens. Thel didn’t even recognize some of the lettering on them – they’d come from many systems and many ports. The _Dokma_ hummed as her engines began warming up.

Thel dusted off her pants and watched as Vatari gave their new guests a quick run-down of the ship.

“We don’t do in-flight catering, and we don’t do entertainment. Refreshers are on the top deck at the end of the hall – use either one, we don’t care. Don’t touch anything, don’t knock anything over.” Her stern face and fearsome armor certainly drove home the point. “And if you decide you want to cause trouble, we have a lovely escape pod with your name on it on the lower deck.”

The man nodded. He had dark hair and tan skin, with a square jaw and soft blue eyes. The woman he was with – a purple twi-lek – was a regular at the Smuggler’s Hold. Thel had once helped her fix the ankle strap on one of her shoes. She doubted the woman recognized her, though. They both wore unassuming, drab clothes, and their speeder looked packed solid with personal affects. Neither of them seemed the farming type, but then again Thel didn’t really count herself the pirating type, and here she was. Desperate people did strange things.

“Thanks,” the man said, eyeing Kaul and Thel. “More family?”

Vatari turned to see the others. “Sure. Kaul and Thel. This is Thane and Salkefi.”

Thel waved, and Kaul merely nodded and went to go help her husband move things. The hold was packed with both speeders, and some creative stacking had to get done before it was easy to move around inside.

“Nice to meet you, Thel,” Thane said, and she noticed he had a posh accent, the kind that went along with the Coruscanti upper crust. “Thank you very much – all of you – for taking us in on such short notice.”

“Yeah,” Vatari said curtly, “thank your boss. He arranged it. Right now – just stay put.” Then, she turned her attention to Thel. “Falkrowe – go see if Eedee has anything for you to do. I’m sure she could use help cleaning up.”

Nodding, Thel knew full well that Vatari simply wanted her out of her hair for a bit while she directed Kaul and Teryn. She had four people to babysit - she didn’t need any more.

Thel headed back towards the front of the ship, feeling it sway under her feet. That might take getting used to. She held the hand rails as she climbed the stairs to the landing outside the bridge, leaning against the side of the open doorway.

“Can I watch?” she asked, seeing Eedee and Dack both checking various monitors as the ship took off. Varyl leaned against one of the consoles in his seat, looking bored. Around them, the Coruscanti night sky was lit with the tiny fires of a thousand rooms.

“Take a seat!” Eedee said, patting one of the two second-row communications chairs. She was in the copilot’s seat, watching her grandson guide the ship. “There’s more than enough room for you, child.”

“Thanks.” She buckled herself in, craning her neck to watch the ship rise slowly, other airborne craft parting around it. The other ships ranged from the ever-present YT-series ships, to small one-man vessels, to other larger freight ships like the _Dokma_.

Dack looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. “We’re gonna hit a refueling station, first, then we’re off. Anything you need?”

“No,” she said. “Not that I can think of.”

“Nope,” Varyl grunted.

“Okay, then – hold on!”

The ship pulled itself around in a high arc, tilting to one side as Dack avoided a skylane. They broke free of the city’s spires, finally, and sped along in the direction of a nearby industrial park.

“Aren’t a lot of people up here, are there?” Thel observed, seeing maybe a handful of other large ships and some smaller craft, either entering or leaving the atmosphere.

“No, and I’m making sure we aren’t being followed…” With a nervous glance at a few of the monitors, Dack took the _Dokma_ subtly off-course, going for a jog in the wrong direction for a bit.

“Who’d follow us?”

Eedee chuckled, answering Thel: “the people Dr. Warden hired us to protect that young couple against. I think we’re fine – someone would have to have a hell of a grudge to follow us out this far. Or know a lot about who they’re hunting, and I doubt the gangers down here have enough money to hire anyone worth worrying about.”

“Still…” Dack checked his six again. “It’s dark and I’m not taking chances.”

“Smart,” Eedee said.

They flew on in silence for almost an hour, and every so often Dack and Eedee would check the surrounding space, tension showing in their faces and the way Dack’s hands gripped the freighter’s controls. Varyl stood and vanished up the staircase, yawning.

Finally, after far too long, they started descending into a darker part of the city, surrounded by steaming factories. The little refueling station was probably designed to accommodate shipping vessels, so their Gozanti-class wouldn’t exactly stick out. A couple other ships were arriving at the same time, but they looked like the kind of small personal transports a factory worker would fly home in. The refueling station’s associated convenience store bled pale light into the pavement below.

Dack brought the ship down easy, the landing gear hissing far below them. “Okay, I’ll get out and get us going,” he said, and hit the switch to activate the main lift. “Need any sweets?” he asked, and when he got only bored stares, he chuckled and left for the main galley, helmet under one arm.

Thel wasn’t really concerned with sweets, just whether or not this job was going to kill her. She had a very bad feeling about the little refueling station, for some reason, and turned to Eedee.

“I don’t know about this place,” she admitted quietly. “It’s giving me the creeps.”

The Mandalorian woman simply nodded, considering it silently.

They heard the faint clanging of a fueling hookup being maneuvered in place by a droid, they waited a while, and then Thel watched as Dack hurried inside to pay.

“What’s he doing?” Eedee grunted, leaning on one of the control panels to look out the front of the ship. “Actually picking out snacks?”

Then, blaster fire.

Eedee whipped around in her seat and had a pistol drawn immediately. There were four people in the galley and two of them were shooting. Thel hit the ground, inching underneath one of the banks of computers and pulling out her blaster, as well.

And then, Eedee was gone. She sprinted forwards, screaming wildly, and Thel watched as a rodian dropped to the ground, thrown against one of the chairs.

_This is the worst job I could have gotten_ , Thel thought, holding her blaster tight. For a moment, her brain couldn’t quite decide what to do – she could stay hidden, or she could risk getting shot at.

She heard someone yelling from the cargo hold.

Thel wriggled out from under the chair and took off running.

Their attackers had come up the unattended main lift, while it was down, and Thel saw the blasted remains of one of the attendant droids on the ground, briefly. The cargo hold echoed with blaster fire and she pressed herself against the doorway, her back to the fight, and dared to peek around the corner.

Eedee, Vatari and Teryn were all firing, but Kaul didn’t have a blaster or armor on her, so she hunkered somewhere out of sight, no doubt. There were people in the room between the hold and the galley – three humans pressed against the doorway, taking cover, and a few more in the hold beyond. Gangers, complete with matching blue jackets. Quickly ducking back into hiding, Thel took a deep breath. She’d seen these guys around – Banna’s Boys, they called themselves – and they were a bit more organized than the usual rabble. Some gnarled twi-lek man ran their whole ring of petty theft and vandalism, and when they wanted something done, he made it happen.

_This is the worst_ , she thought.

And then, she peeked out from the doorway shot one of the men in the back. He crumpled, his jacket smoking, and two others turned around to aim their blasters at Thel.

This was a bad plan. But this was also the only thing she knew how to do. She’d disarmed plenty of trouble-causing bar patrons, and this was no different.

Thel grabbed one of them by the wrist and twisted, wrestling the blaster from his grip and sending it skittering back towards the front of the ship. She got his wrist in a painful lock and wrestled him to the ground. His buddy went for her, but caught a pointed dart in the shoulder from somewhere behind one of the speeders. The woman dropped, crying out.

The guy Thel had pinned was certainly not like the drunks she was used to fighting. He kneed her in the stomach. The sudden pain gave her a surge of enraged strength, and she cracked him in the nose with the heel of her palm, screeching. He punched her in the gut, and this time it was enough to wind her, and he had time to wriggle free while Thel gasped.

His heavy blaster was laying on the floor near the doorway to the galley, and he frantically crawled towards it.

But Thel wasn’t done – she launched herself after him, both of them sliding past the blaster and into the next room. He grabbed at her loose hair, but she was on his back, and grabbed him by the head and brought it down against the metal floor sharply. He went limp, stunned but still groaning.

She coughed, ribs aching from where she’d been struck, but managed to haul herself to her feet, retrieving the pistol the guy had dropped. She set it to stun and shot him in the back, watching him go still. By the time she was done, though, the fire had stopped.

Vatari vaulted over one of the crates she’d used for cover, sounding livid behind her helmet. “How did they get in?” she demanded, gesturing to a body at her feet. “Are there more?”

Thel shook her head. “The lift – Dack –“

“Where is he?” Her tone switched to worry. “Did you see him?” She hurried past Thel, into the galley, and then onto the bridge.

“Are you guys alright?” Thel called, and watched five heads pop up from behind the now blaster-charred airspeeder, and she spotted Jenz peeking from around one of the taller stacks, looking startled.

“I think so!” she called, moving towards the two noncombatants. They seemed to be okay, but the woman was sobbing and wailing about someone. Eedee had it under control.

_Fierfeck, is Dack okay?_ Thel thought, hurrying through the middle room, towards the galley. As she arrived, Varyl was pounding down the steps, a comically large blaster rifle in his hands.

“Where are they?” he barked.

“It’s okay – we got them,” Thel said, and he rushed by her, into the hold.

The lift was coming up slowly, and Thel looked down, still brandishing the pistol, to see Vatari and Dack. In his hands, the young man had a large bottle of fizzy drink and a plastic shopping bag heavy with what Thel could only guess were snacks.

His mother had hunched her shoulders, fists clenched, like she was ready to leap back into battle.

Neither of them said a word. As soon as the lift came all the way up, Dack looked around at the dead and unconscious goons, and dropped his bag, tearing off his helmet.

“ _Tion’gar shabla jurikad ti’ni_?” he yelled. From the hold, Teryn laughed, muffled slightly by his helmet.

“You seriously left the lift down, _vod_?”

“ _Ne’joha_!” He sneered, stepping aside as Varyl dragged one of the unconscious men towards the lift. “I didn’t mean to!”

“You really did!” Teryn was cackling at this point. “I can’t believe you did it, you crazy _di’kut_!” He came into the room, saw the bag, and howled with laughter. “For snacks! _Shabla_ snacks!”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Thel thought it was kinda funny. She snickered quietly, and Teryn spotted her and clapped her on the shoulder, watching his brother gather his dropped bag of candy and toss it on the table.

“Well, at least we found the people following us…”

They all stepped aside as Varyl dragged an unmoving body to the lift, followed by Vatari with another one. Dack looked pale. “They’re gonna notice those guys,” he warned, running a hand through his hair.

“They’re not gonna see my face,” Varyl shot back, dropping an unconscious man who moaned and squirmed. “I _love_ these helmets.”

There was still faint sobbing coming from the cargo hold.

Having laughed at his brother enough to satisfy himself, Teryn removed his helmet and gave Thel a worried look. “Are you okay, _ad’ika_?”

She nodded. “I’m fine. Only got hit a few times.”

He looked her over, still worried. “Where?”

“The ribs.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be fighting, you should be taking it easy. I thought you were dying, the noises you were making.”

“Why are you so worried about me?” She wondered, slightly offended.

Behind his beard, he smiled wide. “I don’t have to worry about everyone else. They’re wearing full beskar-plate body armor. And the captain already paid you.”

“Hm,” she said, looking at the unambiguously dead woman that had been arranged face-down on the lift. Thankfully, the living-but-stunned had been placed on their sides.

With all the gangers loaded, Varyl let the lift down, shaking his head as he descended. He muttered something to himself in Basic, just loudly enough for Thel to catch that it was unbelievably profane.

“One kill,” Eedee reported with a sniff, striding into the room, helmet in hand. “Sorry, _ad’ike_. Heat of the moment… It sure rattled our guests, though.”

Dack asked, “what’s the big deal in there, huh?”

She gave him a grave look. “ _Chakaar_ of an ex-lover. He sent them to come and get her. That’s why they’re leaving the system under armed guard.”

He nodded. “Understandable.”

“She thinks he’s coming for her. Shows what a good job he did scaring her to death.” The captain spat contemptuously, eyes wild. “If he comes here, I’ll kill him, too.” Then, she turned to Dack. “Is the tank full?”

For a moment, the young man looked like he’d been slapped, but he turned quickly to go check on the bridge.

“Is everyone in one piece?” Eedee called, her voice carrying surprisingly far. The chorus of grunts, affirmations, and complaints seemed to satisfy her, and she clapped Varyl on the shoulder as he came back up on the lift. “We’re moving out, _verd’ika_ ,” she told him, and he nodded, heading for the bridge.

Thel sat down and watched business commence as usual. Jenz appeared in the doorway, looking from one person to the other. “Everyone okay?”

Teryn nodded. “We’re in one piece.”

She sighed, relieved, and tossed her own helmet on the table, where it rolled a bit before stopping. She slumping into one of the chairs. “I am sick and tired of fights on home turf. Can’t they just… stay outside? Is that too much to ask?”

“Well you sound chipper this evening,” her brother chuckled.

“Eh,” she said, eyeing the fresh blood on the knuckles of her armored gloves. “Business as usual, I guess.”


End file.
